perhaps the greatest curiosity is an oval plate, marked with the minutes of an hour, which are exactly pointed to by a hand reaching the circumference, which insensibly dilates and contracts itself during its revolution. Two clocks were made some years since by an English artist, and sent as a present, by the East India Company, to the Emperor of China. These clocks, says a contemporary account, are in the form of chariots, in which is placed, in a fine attitude, a lady leaning her right hand upon a part of the chariot, under which is a clock of curious workmanship, little larger than a shilling, which strikes, and repeats, and goes eight days. Upon her finger sits a bird, finely modeled, and set with diamonds and rubies, with its wings expanded in a flying posture, and actually flutters for a considerable time on touching a diamond button below it: the body of the bird (which contains part of the wheels, that in a manner give life to it) is not more than the sixteenth part of an inch. The lady holds in her left hand a gold tube, not thicker than large pin, on the top of which is a round box, not larger than a sixpence, to which a circular ornament, set with diamonds, is fixed, which goes round nearly three hours in a constant, regular motion. Over the lady's head, supported by a small fluted pillar, no bigger than a quill, are two umbrellas, under the largest of which a bell is fixed, at a considerable distance from the clock, and seeming to have no connection with it, but from which a communication is secretly conveyed to a hammer that regularly strikes the hour, and repeats the same at pleasure, by touching a diamond button fixed to the clock below. At the feet of the lady is a dog in gold, before which, from the point of the chariot, on spiral springs, are two birds fixed, the wings and feathers of which are set with stones of various colors, and appear as if flying away with the chariot, which, from another secret motion, is contrived to run in a straight, circular, or any other direction. A boy, who lays hold of the chariot behind, seems also to push it forward. Above the umbrella are flowers and ornaments of precious stones; the whole terminating with a flying dragon set in the same manner. These gifts were wholly of gold, curiously chased, and embellished with rubies and pearls. CHAMBERS. XC.-CŒUR-DE-LION AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER. He came with haughty look, An eagle-glance and clear; But his proud heart through its breastplate shook, When he stood beside the bier! He stood there still with a drooping brow, And silently he strove With the workings of his breast; Than steel may keep suppressed! And his tears break forth, at last, like rain, Men held their breath in awe, For his face was seen by his warrior-train, And he recked not that they saw. He looked upon the dead, And sorrow seemed to lie, A weight of sorrow, even like lead, He stooped and kissed the frozen cheek, Till bursting words--yet all too weak- "O father!" is it vain, This late remorse and deep? Speak to me! mighty grief, Ere now the dust hath stirred! And that thou answerest not? The love my soul forgot! Thy silver hairs I see, So still, so sadly bright! And father, father! but for me They had not been so white! I bore thee down, high heart! at last, Thou wert the noblest king, On royal throne e'er seen; And thou didst wear in knightly ring, Of all the stateliest miēn; And thou didst prove, where spears are proved, Oh! ever the renowned and loved Thou wert-and there thou art! "Thou that my boyhood's guide How will that sad still face of thine MRS. F. D. "HEMANS. XCI.-FEWNESS OF BOOKS. Ir is by no means certain that the ancients had not a great compensation for the fewness of their books, in the thoroughness with which they were compelled to study them. A book must all be copied with the pen, to be owned; and he who transcribed a book for the sake of owning it, would be likely to understand it. Before the art of printing, books were so scarce, that ambassadors were sent from France to Rome, to beg a copy of Cicero de Oratore, and Quintilian's Institutes, &c., because a complete copy of these works was not to be found in all France. Albert, abbot of Gemblours, with incredible labor and expense, collected a library of one hundred and fifty volumes, including everything; and this was considered a wonder indeed. In 1494, the library of the bishop of Winchester contained parts of seventeen books on various subjects; and, on his borrowing a Bible from the convent of St. Swithin, he had to give a heavy bond, drawn up with great solemnity, that he would return it uninjured. If any one gave a book to a convent or a monastery, it conferred everlasting salvation upon him, and he offered it upon the altar of God. When a book was purchased, it was an affâir of such consequence, that persons of distinction were called together as witnesses Previous to the year 1300, the library of Oxford, England, consisted only of a few tracts, which were carefully locked up in a small chest, or else chained, lest they should escape; and at the commencement of the 14th century, the royal library of France contained only four classics, with a few devotional works. So great was the privilege of owning a book, that one of their books on natural history contained a picture representing the Deity as resting on the Sabbath, with a book in his hand in the act of reading! It was probably no better in earlier times. Knowledge was scattered to the four winds, and truth was hidden in a well. Lycurgus and Pythagoras were obliged to travel into Egypt, Persia, and India, in order to understand the doctrine of the metempsychosis. "Solon and Plato had to go to Egypt for what they knew. Herodotus and Strabo were obliged to travel to collect their history, and to construct their geography as they traveled. Few men pretended to own a library, and he was accounted truly favored who owned a half dozen volumes. And yet, with all this scarcity of books, there were in those days scholars who greatly surpassed us. We cannot write poetry like Homer, nor history like Thucydides. We have not the pen which Aristotle and Plato held, nor the eloquence with which Demosthenes thrilled. They surpassed us in painting and in sculpture. Their books were but few. But those were read, as Juvenal says, ten times—“ °decies repetita placebunt." Their own resources were tasked to the utmost, and he who could not draw from his own fountain, in vain sought for neighbors, from whose wells he could borrow. How very different with us! We read without measure, and almost without profit. REV. JOHN "TODD. XCII. THE AMERICAN FLAG. WHEN Freedom from her mountain height Then from his mansion in the sun Majestic monarch of the cloud, Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall; Flag of the seas! on ocean wave |